


Reaper

by malchanceux



Series: Zanpakuto-Ichigo!Verse. [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Gen, zanpakutou!Ichigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malchanceux/pseuds/malchanceux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo takes Rukia's place as Karakura town's Hollow exterminator. Renji is sent to retrieve the 13th Division's wayward Soul Reaper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *vague hand wave* I think I know where I'm going with this??

The night Soul Reaper Rukia Kuchiki tried to save his family from a Hollow set Ichigo’s life onto another course entirely; whether it was for better or worse was unclear. Ichigo was, however, more inclined to lean towards the latter of the two given current circumstances.

The fight between him and the Hollow remained stubbornly blank for the most part. The small woman, Rukia, said he’d taken up a sword and killed the thing. Ichigo wanted to know exactly where he got a sword, and how the _hell_ he knew how to use it with such skill and proficiency as to kill the monstrous beast—sorry, _Hollow—_ that had terrorized his family and put the Shinigami on the side lines. He’d never held a blade before, not really, and especially not the long-sword Rukia was so convinced he’d used.

Ichigo was skeptical.

“Whether you remember or not, it _happened_ ,” Rukia had said, openly frustrated with his arguing. “I don’t know how or why, but it did. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

That had been two days ago, the morning after the attack. The attack only _he_ remembered, apparently, if only partially so. Karin and Yuzu gave him funny looks when he brought up the missing, truck sized hole in the wall, the former particularly bristled when he scooped her up to make sure she was okay.

_“Ichigo you idiot, put me down!”_

The firm punch to the gut was all he needed to make sure his little sister was truly unscathed.

Ichigo found he had Rukia to blame _(thank?)_ for the fixed wall and his family’s blank minds. He found he had a lot to blame her for.

On the third day Rukia showed up at his school as an _exchange student_. Suddenly everyone could see her, and by all appearances, she was exactly what she told them she was. In fact, if it wasn’t for the minor flaws in her act _(Shinigami or no, who_ didn’t _know how a juice box worked, honestly?)_ Ichigo could have been fooled into thinking himself completely insane and that the happenings of the past 72 hours were all in his head.

It wasn’t until the end of lunch that he found out _why_ she was posing as a regular high schooler, and things kind of went to shit from there.

 

 

 

“You want me to what?!”

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything. I _need_ you to take up my place in Karakura and defend souls from Hollow’s.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Idiot! Because _someone_ absorbed all my powers in the most stupid act of heroics I’ve ever bared witness to!”

_A flash of blinding light, the crackle of spiritual energy snapping at the air; the heavy smell of blood._

_Ichigo watches—detached—as his own hands bring the blade to his flesh, pierce it with what seemed like practiced ease. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and yet the knowledge of the ritual is engraved into his very being._

_This will kill the Hollow._

_This will save his family._

Ichigo comes back to himself with a start, the memories of days ago stinging like a fresh wound. He remembers the feeling of helplessness when his mother died—the horrible, black abyss of despair. It had so closely mirrored what he felt when he thought Karin was going to die. But he also remembers the whispers of power after he took the Soul Reaper’s sword into his body. It had been good, _right_. Like something that had been missing; a gapping void filled.

“I— I’ll help you, Rukia. I _want_ to help you.”

The small woman gives him an apprehensive look, but nods.

“Thank you, Ichigo.” The first genuine smile breaks across her lips then, and he can’t help but mirror it.

 

 

 

No matter how many times he does it, leaving his physical body behind to dawn Shinigami robes just doesn’t feel right.

At first, Ichigo thinks it normal. How many times does one have an out of body experience, right? To watch your own body flop to the ground in a boneless heap would disturb anyone sane. But after the sixth, seventh, _eighth_ time of having to be yanked out of his body to slay a Hollow, Ichigo begins to doubt the actual experience is the problem. In truth, he always feels caged in when he’s in Soul Reaper mode, if that makes any sense. Like being out of his body is more restraining then being in it. His skin feels stretched thin as tissue paper, like the shallowest of cuts will send him fraying into the air—like shattered glass or a popped balloon.

He ignores it though, in favor of saving people, and most of the time it’s easy.

Except for when it isn’t.

On the bad days, Ichigo finds it hard to concentrate completely on the issues at hand _(namely, Hollow’s)_. His vision will distance at the most inopportune of times, flashes of the night he met Rukia blaring through his head, and words he doesn’t quite recognize echo in his own voice.

_“Tsuyokunaru, Ichigo.”_

He fuzzily remembers saying the exact phrase the first time he’d drawn the heavy Odashi from its sheath, but he hasn’t uttered the words since.

_Be strong, One Who Protects…_

What was that supposed to even mean? It felt… significant. And yet painful—to think about, or speak.

He tried to not think about it.

In fact, when it came to fighting Hollows or pinpointing Souls or anything to do with the afterlife, Ichigo tried not to think at all, just let what felt like _instinct_ take charge and let the troublesome emotions wash over him like water on a ducks back.

It was easier that way.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s when things begin to finally calm down that the metaphorical carpet gets yanked out from under Ichigo and Rukia’s routine. It comes in the form of a friendly invitation, given to Rukia by sweet and innocent Orihime Inoue.

“A group of us are meeting up to study for finals,” she had said with an enthusiasm Rukia did not often see mortals use towards academia. At first, the Soul Reaper had declined politely; she and Ichigo had training planned for that evening. Hollow’s had been relatively quiet the past few weeks, but Ichigo did not have the years of discipline and combat experience Rukia did. She wanted him as ready as possible for the next foe he would inevitably face.

But then…

“I know Ichigo’s grades have been suffering for the last month or so,” Orihime had looked so genuinely _concerned,_ “I’m worried about him. Really, we all are.”

Guilt had stabbed at Rukie like a knife.

“I’ll drag him there myself if I have to,” the small Reaper had found herself saying, “I know he wouldn’t want you guys to worry.”

Ichigo had huffed in annoyance when Rukia told him that their training was cancelled and why, but she could tell he was happy Orihime had thought to invite him at all. Excited, even, at the prospect of seeing his friends after weeks and weeks of Hollow exterminating taking up so much of his time. Guilt stayed with Rukia the entire way to Orihime’s apartment. In the end, it was her failures that had led to Ichigo’s life being so disrupted. Was it not the Soul Reaper’s duty to keep mortal’s safe from the destruction Hollow’s and their like wrought? Had she not dragged him into the endless war Soul Society fought by her own mistakes?

If she had just been stronger…

When they arrive there are no text books strewn across the floor and no junk food cluttering the coffee table as Rukia had imagined. Instead, Chad, Ishida, and a man all too familiar to the small Reaper sit solemnly in the living room, waiting for their arrival--studying for finals far from tonight's agenda.

“Who the hell is the old guy?” Ichigo asks Orihime. He too has caught on to the atmosphere; knows something isn’t quite right.

“His name is Urahara Kisuke,” Rukia answers for the red head. She stands stiff with her face blank. Though this man has done her a great many favors since her placement in Karakura Town, she knew he was not a man to be trusted by any means.

“He’s a friend, Kurosaki.” Ishida says, standing. “A friend who knows about your peculiar after school activities.”

Ichigo glares. For him to speak about such things in front of Chad and Orihime--

“It’s okay, Ichigo,” Orihime says with a small, sad smile, “We know about Hollow’s now. And all that you’ve been doing to stop them.”

“What the hell is this?” Ichigo turns to Rukia. “What did you _do_?”

“Nothing,” Rukia exclaims, “I didn’t tell them a damn thing!”

“I did,” the strange man says from where he lounges on Orihime’s couch. “I told them about Hollows and Soul Reapers. I told them about how you’ve been parading about as a _‘substitute’_ for poor Kuchiki.”

“I don’t understand; why? And just who are you? How do you _know_ all of this?”

“I’m sure Rukia could fill you in on that--she’s been so forthcoming with you thus far.”

Kisuke’s words are like vinegar to an open wound.

“He owns a small convenience shop,” Rukia says sternly, staring coldly at the man before her. “And sells select shinigami merchandise.”

“Rukia’s gigai, for example,” Kisuke jumps in. “One of my own design, actually. Untraceable by Soul Society, as Rukia had requested.”

“ _‘Untraceable’,_ ” Ichigo turns to the small Reaper. “Why? I thought you worked for Soul Society?”

“I do!” She bit out. “I just…”

She looks away, ashamed and worried of Ichigo’s judgement. Of his reaction when all her mistakes she’s made on this mission come to light...

“It’s just that she’s broken several laws since she was assigned as protector of Karakura Town. One of which, though certainly not limited to, involving the likes of mortals in the business of Soul Society. There is no such thing as a ‘Substitute Soul Reaper’, Ichigo. And for good reason.”

“Now just wait a minute!”

“Ichigo,” Orihime takes one of his clenched fists in her soft hands. “It’s okay--just hear Urahara out. Please? We all only want what’s best for you.”

Gentle grey eyes falter Ichigo’s temper. He shoots a glance at Rukia, a searching look of exactly how to handle this, of what to _do_. But she looks away from him, stares at the floor with an expression of defeat. And that scares Ichigo. Through hell and high water he has always been able to look to her for answers. For months he has become reliant on her wisdom, for her to guide his blade and his resolve.

“Okay,” he says to Orihime. He looks at Kisuke, guarded and hostile. “Fine. Explain yourself for involving my friends in this mess. I’ll listen.”

The old shop owner just smiles in reply. He gestures for them to take a seat.

“Get comfortable. It’s going to be a long night.”

 

 

 

Kisuke had not been lying. It is nearly dawn by the time Ichigo is leaving Orihime’s apartment.

He leaves alone and furious. Rukia had already left some hours before. She had looked drawn, weighed down. Shamed by the admittance of the many missteps she had taken during the course of her Karakura mission.

_ “I never should have involved you, Ichigo. Both law and morals should have restrained me,” Rukia had looked close to tears, “but I feared the judgement I would receive upon returning home powerless. They would see what I had done to you--and in turn myself. You taking my powers as you have, it’s unheard of. I thought you would only have to fight for so long, that my abilities would return. They should have. When they didn’t… I made a decision. I can admit that it was the wrong one, but it wasn’t supposed to end this way. I was supposed to be gone by now. You must believe that, if nothing else.” _

He did believed her. He believed her and he did not blame her. That night, when he had taken her zanpaktou in hand and skewered himself with it, the situation had been just as much his fault as hers. He could see spirits, how was she to know that? And if he had stayed on the sidelines she would have defeated that Hollow all on her own. There was nothing they could do to change what had happened, and though reluctant at first, Ichigo would never take back all the battles he had fought since then. Not with all the souls they had saved in turn.

_ “You must understand, Kurosaki,” Kisuke had warned. “Soul Society will be coming for Rukia. She will not be returning home a welcomed comrade, but a criminal. It is possible that in time what she has done will be overlooked and her place as a Soul Reaper reinstated, but for the time being she is simply an assailant to be apprehended. Your affiliation will only bring a harder punishment for Rukia--and involving yourself could bring consequences I cannot even predict .”  _

Ichigo’s answer had been obvious to him. He would not leave Rukia’s side. What had happened to him--his gaining the abilities of a shinigami and Rukia in turn losing hers--was a mistake they had made together. Ichigo couldn’t say much of her hiding from her superiors with an  _ untraceable  _ gigai, but Rukia had been scared. Surely once Soul Society understood the situation fully they would be more lenient.

Ichigo’s friends had thought otherwise…

_ “Why get them involved?”  _

He had been outraged knowing his friends had been put in the line of fire. But it seemed Ichigo wasn’t the only mortal in Karakura town to harbour special ‘talents’.

_ “Kisuke came to us concerned for Rukia and you, Ichigo. He knew you wouldn’t believe him on his own. We asked him to make us strong so you didn’t feel like you had to protect us anymore. So you could let this go--” _

_ “I can’t abandon Rukia!” _

_ “You can’t take on the entirety of Soul Society, either.” _

And then Ichigo had understood. If he tried to intervene when Soul Society came, Orihime, Chad, and Ishida would be there too. They knew now of the world of Hollows. They were  _ strong _ . If Ichigo chose to fight, they would be there beside him, he was sure of it. Supporting whatever decision he made.

That bastard Kisuke had known that as well. Which is why he had told them, and trained them, so that Ichigo would be backed into a corner. But why? Why did a man he’d never met before do this? For Rukia? Would Ichigo’s interference really make the consequences that much worse for her? What the hell was his  _ motive?  _

As Ichigo walked home he was faced with a crossroads. He could step aside and let the laws of Soul Society take their course, let Rukia return home shamed and criminalized. Life would go on as it had before for Ichigo, and perhaps Kuchiki would not be punished as severely as he dreaded. Or he could try to explain the situation, be the proof necessary that Rukia had not made her mistakes on her own, that he had pulled her down in ignorance. But if things turned violent, his friends would step in as well. Would that put a target on their backs? Would they be in harm's way because of him? Ichigo could not be certain how the shinigami who came for Rukia would react--the old man seemed so sure they’d be out for blood if Ichigo tried to so much as speak to them.

But then, were those the kind of people Rukia’s future should be entrusted to? Ichigo did not know much of Soul Society, or how their judicial system worked. All he knew was that Rukia Kuchiki had been well meaning by every action taken and did not deserve whatever fate awaited her.

 

 

 

Ishida stands at Orihime’s window, watching Ichigo’s brooding departure.

“Do you think he’ll listen to our advice?”

“No,” Chad says simply. With how the conversation went, and how well they knew Ichigo,  Ishida could not argue.

“Poor Rukia,” Orihime says, “Poor Ichigo.”

“We did what we could; and I believe we weighed heavier on Kurosaki’s mind than you may think,” Kisuke says. He stands from his place on the couch and heads for the door. He feels as though tonight was a success--after weeks of planning and manipulating, he thinks if nothing else knowing his friends are now directly affected by whatever decision he makes should be enough to keep Ichigo out of trouble. In the end it comes down to picking between the woman he had just met months prior or the safety of his best friends. Kisuke has kept his eye on the boy--he was smart. He would make the right decision.

But Kisuke was not necessarily a gambling man. If the threat of his friends’ well being was not enough to hold Ichigo back, then the training they had all endured would surely chase off whatever Seated Officer came bumbling through Karakura Town in search of Kuchiki. Then Urahara would have no choice but to expose himself, get his own hands dirty to keep the Kurosaki boy off Soul Society’s radar.

“Stay close to him. I would put money on someone being sent to retrieve Rukia soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Ishida says with determination--so much like his father.

“Hopefully ready for nothing,” Kisuke waves a lazy hand goodbye. “Ichigo will choose wisely, I’m sure. Have a good night now--or morning I guess.”

“Goodbye, Kisuke. And thank you. For everything,” Orihime bows deeply. Perhaps a hundred or so years ago Urahara would feel guilty for all that he’s done to lead up to this moment. To these  _ children  _ having to pledge themselves ready to face hardened warriors. As it is, he feels nothing for them. Only the nerves that come with waiting for a plan to come to fruition.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for?”

 

 

 

The air is crisp as the first few rays of sunlight begin to paint the sky pink. Karakura is deathly silent, the town still submerged deep in sleep. Morning dew glistens off window panes and the leaves of whatever weeds find themselves thriving between the cracks in the concrete sidewalk. Ichigo walks in the subdued Japan that early morning brings about; oblivious to the soft bird song and cricket chatter that makes up the white noise of Karakura yet awake.

Orihime only lived a few blocks from the Kurosaki residence, but that wasn’t where ichigo was headed. He had a lot to think about and sleep was the last thing on his mind. Instead he found himself heading towards the cemetery. His mind always seemed to calm when he was near there--near his mother. For the decision he was about to make, he needed to find the balance she brought about in him.

After several blocks he becomes aware of a presence following him. Perhaps it had been there since he left Orihime’s--he knew he wasn’t good at focusing his abilities, sensing reitsu being a definite weak point for him. Nevertheless, he recognized who it was. 

“Are you gonna skulk in the shadows all night?”

From the dark Rukia emerges. She looks just as forlorn as she had hours prior.

“You’ve gotten better with your surroundings.”

“I have a good teacher.”

Silence then. She looks at him with pity. He hates it. Hates that she thinks she’s been such a burden. 

“I don’t regret being your substitute.”

“I know, Ichigo.”

“What you said back there, at Orihime’s… You said you were ‘willing to accept whatever punishment Soul Society decides is just’.”

“And I am,” there is no falter in her reply. “I will plead my case and they will have their verdict. If I return on my own I can scavenge my pride--my family’s pride. As a shinigami it is my duty to return to Soul Society and let them pass judgement.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“I was never asking for your acceptance, Ichigo. This is the right thing for me to do. And the right thing for you to do is step down--with not just me in mind, but Orihime, Chad, and Ishida as well.”

A beat, two where neither says a word. It feels as though gravity is getting heavier; weighing them both down in a moment that seems so morose and empty. Over a decision that seems inevitable. It feels too much like a ‘good-bye’. 

“Rukia, I--”

A sudden spike in spiritual pressure.

“What the-- Is that a Hollow?”

“No, it’s-- Ichigo you have to run!”

“What are you talking about?”

Suddenly Rukia is lunging at Ichigo, smashing her gokon tekko into his chest and sending both Ichigo’s physical body and soul to the ground. A sword smashes into the sidewalk where they had just been standing.

“Who the  _ hell?”  _ The blade is held by tattooed hands; black marks that crawl up the arm and slither beneath the sleeve of a dark kosode. Ichigo knows that uniform intimately; knows by how the concrete has cracked and gave way to the sword that it is a zanpakuto. This man, whoever he is, is the shinigami Urahara Kisuke had warned them about. He was the judgment of Soul Society, come to collect their wayward reaper.

“Renji!” Rukia exclaims with a desperate kind of familiarity. Ichigo jumps to his feet, hand going to the hilt of the odochi at his back. Rukia scrambles to grab his physical body and pull it back and away from the scrabble. 

“You’ve grown weak, Rukia. I almost thought you wouldn't be able to dodge that,” the red haired shinigami says, bringing his sword to rest on his shoulder in a show of casual hostility. “Much less save that halfwit human of yours. So this is the pitiful thing you let steal your powers from you?”

With an indignant growl Ichigo draws his blade. Over the course of his time as a Substitute Soul Reaper he has become accustomed to the weight of the large katana. It was now a familiar comfort in his hands--a part of him, he felt. The tool that made him strong enough to protect his family and friends (though now, he thinks, perhaps some of them didn’t need all that much protecting). 

“Asshole,” he spits. “You could have fucking killed us!”

“If an attack like that kills you, you don’t deserve to live.”

“Bastard, I thought Rukia was one of you--does that mean nothing?”

“What do you know,” Renji snarls. He charges, suddenly; Ichigo barely parrying the blow. Their blades lock. Ichigo’s arms start to shake from the strain. “You, who can hardly hold your own sword up. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Rukia’s friend,” the orange haired shinigami bites out.

His answer only seems to anger Renji more. He pulls his blade back only to deliver a more powerful blow. It knocks Ichigo off his feet and into the cement wall behind him, landing next to where his physical body had been leaning for relative ‘safety’. It startles Ichigo, just how easily this shinigami can overpower him. How Ichigo has faced so many Hollow’s up to this point and yet it does not seem to have prepared him at all.

Fighting monsters was different than fighting another warrior; especially one skilled with a sword. Suddenly, it hits Ichigo how unprepared for this battle he really is.

“Renji, stop!” Rukia stands between Ichigo and the other Reaper, arms outstretched, expression pleading. “Please, leave him out of this. I will come with you willingly. There’s no need for a fight. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Out of the way, Rukia,” the red haired shinigami snarls. He raises his sword up, as though he were willing to strike through the smaller Reaper to get to Ichigo. “He signed his death warrant the moment he took your powers.”

_ “Renji!  _ It was my fault! Not Ichigo’s!”

The redhead grabbed Rukia by the collar, throwing her bodily to the side and out of his way, as though she were a ragdoll. “Don’t, please!”

Ichigo’s heart lept into his throat. The red haired shinigami once again prepared his sword, a lit of murderous intent glaring in his eyes. Ichigo gripped the hilt of his sword, readying himself to parry a blow he wasn’t honestly sure he could block.

A flash of blue light, the familiar sound of a heilig pfeil cutting through the air. The spirit arrow darts between the two Soul Reapers, surprising Renji--forcing him to make a startled leap back.

“Who the hell?” he growls.

_ “Ishida,”  _ Ichigo breathes, fear and elation mixing nervously. He wasn’t certain if the appearance of his friend was good or bad. Knew he wouldn’t be able to face the shinigami alone, but to endanger his friend seemed… 

“Really Ichigo? Did we not  _ just  _ have a conversation about this exact scenario?” Ishida sighed, his bow drawn and another arrow ready. “I guess it’s a good thing Orihime suggested following you around, and even better that we decided to start tonight. Unlucky for the shinigami, I guess, since I drew the short straw and got the first shift.”

Renji readied his sword once more. “A Quincy? Please, I’m not shaking in my sandals over here.”

“You should be.” Ishida released a second heilig pfeil. It shot forward at an impossible speed. The shinigami dodged the attack, but not as effortlessly as he thought he would have, surprise clear on his face. 

Ichigo widened his stance and held his blade with a new found confidence. With ishida here, surely together they’d be able to--

“Stop!” Rukia cried. There were tears slipping down her cheeks. “All of you! No more!”

The small Soul Reaper picked herself off the ground, fists trembling at her sides.

“Renji, I will go peacefully to Soul Society under your custody. There is no need for violence.”

A tense silence follows. The red haired Shinigami looks surprised at first, then contemplative. He casts his glare at the Quincy, with his bow charged and drawn.

“If that is what you wish, Rukia,” Ishida says, lowering his spirit bow and disbanding the drawn arrow.  _ That simple?  _ Ichigo thinks. He had been so willing to fight the Soul Reaper just seconds before, but so easily he’d lower his weapon…

_ The decision is Rukia’s,  _ a treacherous voice whispers from his subconscious.

_ “I was never asking for your acceptance, Ichigo. This is the right thing for me to do.” _

Was it? She was a soldier, and she had broken their law, and yet…

_ If she wanted your help, Rukia knows she need only ask. _

Ichigo’s stance wavered, his resolve shriveling like a dying flower. He knew, without question, if he decided to stand his ground Ishida would fight with him--that he could call on all his friends and they would be there with all their strength. Together they could protect Rukia. But Rukia did not wish to be saved, and to stand against Soul Society would be to put his friends lives in danger...

Renji watched as Ichigo, much like the Quincy, began to lower his weapon. Cold, contemplative eyes seemed to spark back to life, a fiery temper burning in brown eyes.

“Cowards,” he snarled, and in a flash of light he swung his sword toward Uryu.  _ “Zabimaru!” _

The weight of the released spiritual pressure is sudden; Ichigo slams his blade into the concrete sidewalk to keep his legs from buckling.

“No!” Rukia screams; she falls back to her knees, a mere gigai unable to stand up to the powerful display.  _ “Ishida!” _

There is a cloud of dust and smoke where the Quincy once stood. Ichigo’s eye widen; he swears he feels his heart stop. Oh god,  _ oh god.  _ The attack had been so fast--could Uryu have dodged it?

“You dare stand against Soul Society,” Renji bites out, turning his cold gaze to Ichigo now. “You dare think I need your  _ permission  _ to take a  _ prisoner?”  _

The once simple katana now flashed with lethal barbs.  _ ‘Zabimaru’,  _ he had said. A snake with deadly fangs.

Shakily ichigo budge his sword from the ground and brought it up in a defensive stance. He chanced a glance to where the debris was clearing--

Blood. There was blood on the ground, puddling and… Ishida lay in the midst of it, prone and unmoving.

“You bastard,” Ichigo snarled, “He laid his arms down--he wasn’t going to fight you! Why?”

“Because he was Rukia’s  _ ‘friend’ _ ,” Renji answered simply, as though that was reason enough--as though a peaceful surrender was an effront to him. 

Something in Ichigo snapped then. He would not, under any circumstance, let scum like this  _ Renji  _ take Rukia--not without one hell of a fight. He felt his reiatsu like a tidal wave of warmth washing over his body, coming from his core at his command. It wrapped around his arms for strength, his legs for stability. It soaked into his sword like a breath to give it life.

“You’ll regret that,” Ichigo growled. “Honorless scum!”

“Bring it on!” Renji bit back, readying his blade once again.

Ichigo bent at the knees, ready to lunge, to swing his blade with all his might. What he lacked in finesse a vowed to overcome with brute force--but with sudden vertigo time seemed to freeze. The color and light of the world dissolved into a sepia; all movement slowed to a snail's pace. Ichigo took in the glow in Renji’s eyes, knew instantly that he was preparing another attack like the one that laid out Ishida. Could he survive that? An attack so fast and so powerful…

_ Say my name,  _ a voice whispered. It sounded so close, but there was no breath at Ichigo’s ear. It was though it came from within…

_ Say my name,  _ the voice said again, more stern.  _ Say my name and you will win. _

_ Who are you?  _

_ You know. You have always known. _

Ichigo didn’t have time for this cryptic bullshit. He was about to face off a hundreds of years old spirit samurai with all the rushed training of several desperate months.

_ Say my name. _

_ I don’t know who you are! _

Time sped up at a panic inducing rate, throwing the Substitute Shinigami back into reality. Ichigo’s body lept forward just as Renji pulled his blade back to swing. He wouldn’t survive a direct hit, Ichigo knew it deep within his  _ bones  _ he would die if he charged in like this so unprepared, so overwhelmed. But he had to, for Rukia. There was no going back, not anymore, not after seeing what thoughtless violence Soul Society was capable of.

_ Say my name. _

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up! _

Renji brought his zanpakuto forward, the sections of barbed blade separating like a sephent. Ichigo hadn’t noticed the finer details of the attack before, but now, with it focused at him, he stared with a morbid curiosity. Watched what could very well be his death unfurling; slithering forward.

_ Think,  _ the disembodied voice whispered.  _ Remember. _

Remember what, Ichigo wanted to snap, but then he did--he  _ remembered _ . It seemed so obvious now, he didn’t know how he couldn’t have known it before. Had he not uttered the same words just months prior?

_ “Tsuyokunaru,”  _ Ichigo roared, blue light enrapturing his blade as it grew in width and  _ power.  _ “Ichigo!”

A wave of reiatsu surged forward with Ichigo’s swing, clashing with Renji’s blade. There’s a sizzling and loud crackling as the honed force of the Soul Reapers attack met with Ichigo’s wild and unchecked spiritual power.

“Ichigo! Renji!”

With a  _ boom _ the collision peaks, centrifugal force sending both swordsmen flying backwards.

Ichigo watches as he’s flung away from his opponent, sees as another Shinigami appears next to Rukia’s trembling form in a flash of white and black, eyes Ishida’s fallen form with a painful lurch, and watches satisfied as Renji’s thrown through a concrete wall in an explosion of dust and debris. 

He feels as he too crashes through cement slabbing, bones cracking and sword falling from his grasp.

Everything goes dark then; he thinks his eyes must be shut. He can feel a painful gash at the back of his head bleeding...

“Please, Byakuya,” he hears Rukia through a growing fog. “Spare him, he’s just a human. He doesn’t know any better.”

“Rukia,” he groans desperately, or he thinks he does. His tongue feels heavy, his breathing labored with every passing second; the fog growing thicker and thicker, until awareness finally leaves him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided the end of the second chapter was unsatisfactory and lazy. Here is the third and final chapter of Reaper that better leads into the fourth installment of the Zanpakuto-Ichigo!Verse. :P

Ichigo wakes up in a dark, stark jail cell. He’s shackled at the wrists, sore in ways he’s never been before. Bandages decorate his chest, neck, and arms. He can feel the familiar pull of stitches at the back of his head.

By the look of the cell and the white kimono he has been made to wear, Ichigo has failed to protect Rukia from Soul Society.

A vague memory of a spirit arrow and blood comes to the forefront of the red head’s memory, and Ichigo remembers that Rukia was not the only friend he had failed to protect.

Tears well and burn at the substitutes eyes. Ichigo lets them fall freely as he sinks back into the oblivion of unconsciousness, guilt and regret weighing him down like stones in a drowning man’s pockets.

 

 

 

“The prisoner has been stabilized,” the Fourth Division’s Captain Retsu Unohana spoke softly, with a gentle demeanor. She held herself tall amongst her peers, her countenance composed as she addressed her superior: Head Captain Genryusai Yamamoto. “As has Vice Captain Abarai. Both patients should be awake and cogent within the next few hours. My full report has, of course, already been sent out to each Division’s captain respectively.”

The Head Captain nodded his approval, his hard gaze leaving Unohana to level with the 6th Division’s captain. 

“I have gone over your mission report extensively, Captain Kuchiki. As has the Central 46,” there’s a moment of silence where the severity of situation weighs the air in the room like a thick smoke. 

Shensui speaks then, surprise clear in his expression, “For the council of 46 to be involved already… We have our wayward reaper and our criminal. Is the situation still so dire?”

“Undeniably so,” Yamamoto replied, “Speculation has turned to truth. Captain Kuchiki, you observed the Shikai of the ryoka. In your report you described the released form of his blade as one very familiar to the Gotei 13, its strength and form unforgettable. It has been a permanent stain on the 6th Division’s name, and now those past failures have been brought to us anew.”

“Recall not so long ago another case of a deserter shinigami: Masaki Kurosaki, a seated officer. For so long she has been presumed dead, as her reiatsu suddenly vanished from the World of the Living, and now it has been confirmed--but her treachery did not, however, end by abandoning her duties as a soul reaper.”

“Ichigo,” Captain Aizen Sousuke murmured to himself, “That name, I knew it sounded familiar. You couldn’t possibly be implying--”

“Implying what? Who cares--the mission was a success,” Zaraki complained, bored of the ramblings of the Captains Meeting. “Kuchiki has been dragged back, and the ryoka is in jail. Mission complete. Let Central have their trial and the rest be done with it.”

“There will be no trial,” Head Captain Yamamoto declared, staff slamming onto the hardwood floor. A tense hush fell over the other captains, all eyes intent on their commander. “Through the combined efforts of the Fourth and Twelfth Division’s we can now say without doubt that the ryoka in custody is a Kurosaki by blood. The anomalies described in the mission report--the theft of Rukia Kuchiki’s reiatsu, the incredible power held by what was presumed to be merely a human--all come together under this one truth. Ichigo Kurosaki is a child born from his mother’s treason.”

Once more Yamamoto turned his hard gaze to the 6th Division Captain.

“The Central 46 has decided on a verdict. Rukia Kuchiki will be stripped of her shinigami status and held in custody of the Kuchiki clan. Should she ever step foot outside the clan’s walls, banishment from the Seireitei will be upheld with the utmost precedence.”

Byakuya bowed shallowly, acknowledging the favor of the lenient sentence Central 46 had bestowed his clan.

“As for the ryoka… in his mother’s place, Ichigo Kurosaki shall be executed by the end of the month, by way of Sokyoku.”


End file.
